Narcissus
by Splintered Star
Summary: Narcissus looked into the water and saw himself. And he saw that the image was pleasing to the eye and sat by the water, gazing at the image... Thief King Bakura x Yami no Bakura


(TK x YnB. Narcissism. Sorta. PG.)

As Narcissus looked into the waters, he saw himself. And he saw that the image was pleasing to the eye, and sat next to the waters and gazed at the image…

----

Yami no Bakura looked into the water. Very few knew of this lake. His host had discovered it, and had often come here to think. Ironically, the thief came here for a similar reason. He had come here to avoid his host's friends, for they were trying his patience and he dare not reveal himself yet. So a quick lie about 'needing to be alone' and he was gone.

His reflection lied. He knew it did. This image in the water was not him, not him at all. It was his host, though there were differences between them. His eyes were colder, his hair was wilder, and his mouth was often in a twisted snarl. But that did not matter. It was his host. Not him, not the proud and feared tomb robber, but a weak and fearing boy.

He looked away from the water for a short moment. The day was calm, almost boring. When he looked back to the water, however, Yami no Bakura's eyes widened. The image that had once been his host was now…. _Him_. Not him as he was now, but him as he was in Egypt, as the King of Thieves. How it had changed, he didn't know. He scanned the area for any shadow magic; he found none. So he was left staring at this mystery, this specter from the past.

The water rippled as the spirit reached to touch his reflection, transfixed. He hadn't seen what he had looked like in years. He had sometimes seen what he had looked like in the rare pools of water in Egypt, but it had been so long since his last life. This image was the first time he had seen what he had been, a millennia ago.

It was beautiful.

It was strange of him, he knew, to think of this image of himself that way, but he didn't care.

It was breathtaking.

Frozen gray eyes, short white hair, and a cloak the color of fresh blood. Perhaps it _was_ colored by blood. No one knew. Eyes wide in shock and wonder, as if the image was just as surprised by the spirit above it as the spirit himself was by it.

The spirit knelt by the water, eyes taking in every detail about the image. The cross-shaped scar was still carved deep into his face, below his left eye. There was a slight mark underneath his ear that the spirit didn't remember at first, but then he remembered that it was from a lover's bite, from one of the few times he had bothered with that particular pleasure. Yami no Bakura felt a surge of jealousy. No one should be allowed to touch that beautiful body…. No one but him.

The mirror matched him, move for move, in his actions. Every move of the hand, every breath, they moved as one.

They _were_ one.

The spirit knew that many would consider it wrong for him want himself like he did, but why would he care?

What was so wrong about it, anyway?

When the image was so amazing, who could help but want it? Yami no Bakura smiled. No one would have this beautiful image but him. No one _could _have it. This was only for him, only for his eyes and his imagination.

Yami no Bakura brushed his hand, again, against the reflection in the water. His hand shook as it passed over the reflection's lips, resisting the urge to press down into the water. He wanted to see if he could open its mouth and touch its tongue, feel it move against him. He shook his head. It was only a reflection, no matter how much he wanted it, though it was a very handsome one. But that didn't stop him from wanting to touch it, to run his hand along the water and glare at the ripples that marred the reflection's beautiful body.

Yami no Bakura stared at the image of himself, from so long ago. He knew it was just a reflection, but gods he wanted to kiss it. He knew it was foolish. He didn't care. He wanted his reflection, wanted it to come to life and kiss back and to find out how accurate it was.

The image stared back; gray eyes holding the same transfixed expression as the brown eyes above them, and same parted lips. It looked like it would not mind in the least if Yami no Bakura _did_ kiss it.

He leaned over the water and almost touched his face to the surface, staring into the gray eyes of his reflection, hypnotized by them.

He leaned over farther and brushed his lips against those of his image. His eyes widened as they touched the water, but slid shut as he stayed there, not drawing back.

Eventually, he did pull back, his damned weak body's needing air. When he opened his eyes, the image was of his host, as it was before. He was disappointed, but it did not matter. He had seen himself as the Thief King, the most beautiful body in the world. And he knew, even if no one else did, that for one moment the reflection kissed back.

----

Okay… This is probably one of the weirdest things I've done, with the exception of Insanity. Very odd. I thought about making this either Thief King Bakura x Ryou or Pharaoh Atemu x Yami no Yuugi, but then I realized that Ryou and Yami no Yuugi are a lot of things, but not narcissistic, while Yami no Bakura fit the bill quite nicely. He does seem thusly inclined, doesn't he? He's self-centered enough. Anyway, I hope you're not confused and/or worrying about my sanity. Or maybe you _should_ be worrying about my sanity. No matter.


End file.
